Mr and Mrs Caulfield
by surroundedbystars
Summary: Why did Max's parents decide to leave Arcadia Bay in 2008?


**The following is a work of fan fiction based upon Life is Strange, created by DONTNOD Entertainment, and Life is Strange Before the Storm, created by Deck Nine, both of which are owned by Square Enix. No claim of ownership is made, and none is to be honored. I own nothing.**

 **Author's Note:** This isn't really a Life is Strange piece in terms telling a story about any of the ships, post-bay or post-bae endings, or any of that. We've never actually encountered these characters in the game, but nonetheless, they cast a big shadow over Max and Chloe's relationship. I wanted to look at why Max seemed to always favor the Price household over her own and why they moved to Seattle so quickly in the first place. It's a character study built on headcanon, pretty much. If that's not your thing (which I completely appreciate) then you could try some of my other stories - people really like _Come Home_. Alternatively, I always recommend Rowanred81's stuff. She's just the best.

* * *

The road leading away from the Caulfield house looked long enough to fall off the horizon. Even though there he could see the rest of the town, the docks, and then the Pacific ocean, Ryan still felt as though he was getting dangerously close to stepping off the side of the world. Although he usually loved the early morning run, that morning he felt anxious just being outside. His body ached against the cold and the last words that he'd said to her before leaving played over in his head like a song stuck on repeat.

'If you want to move so much, Nessa, just leave.'

 _Caulfield_ , he thought to himself as he ran, _you idiot._

In a small town like Arcadia Bay, where everyone knew everyone else's business and rumors spread like wildfire, it seemed like the only place where he could have some personal time. He loved his daughter and wife, he truly did, but sometimes he just wanted to not talk. Not to listen to his wife's complaints about the town or how Max wasn't getting the grades she should have or socializing like she should, not to argue, shout, get mad at himself, or any of that stuff.

Sometimes he just needed a time out.

He ran the same time every morning. Always the same route. At 7 AM he left the house and went through the Brown Estates, then passing into Main Street, then he'd pass Cedar Avenue and then up through Main Street again - this time through the other direction which would take him past Blackwood before going up the cliff towards the lighthouse. It was a good run, and it allowed him to see the town that he loved.

Even if the place had seen better days.

That morning, he and Vanessa had gotten into a fight again. It was a common occurrence in their house, one which seemed to have been occurring more and more often as the years went on but had been happening as long as they'd been married. Vanessa was desperate to move away from Arcadia Bay, the town where she, him, and their daughter had been born, but he wasn't. The town was his home; it was their daughter's home; and, although he knew Vanessa didn't like to admit it, it was her home, too. They had a life there.

Ryan stopped and shivered. His lungs hurt. The sun had barely risen above the horizon, and the frost was still fresh on the ground. The world seemed to be still asleep. He paused his iPod, pulled out the earbuds and listened to the world around him. At the birds and the forest in the distance, and the sound of boats in the harbor, of the trains making their way to the Prescott Mill to pick up logs, and the people - his neighbors - going about their day. He stood there, in complete silence, mouthing the words to the Fugazi song he'd been listening to, just for a moment, before continuing on.

'She wouldn't want to leave,' he said, panting, 'if she came out for a morning run sometime.'

* * *

Ryan found himself standing under a power line and a resting Blue Jay on the edge of Cedar Avenue. Max was there that morning, staying over with Chloe and the Prices like she seemed to do at every opportunity. He couldn't blame his daughter for spending so much time there; it was quiet and the Prices were good people. Chloe was a good kid and a real friend to Max. Ryan liked that.

Plus, it was better for Max to be out of the house when he and Vanessa started arguing.

Vanessa had always wanted to move away from the town, since before they'd met. She loved the big city - and he guessed he did too - but they'd never taken the plunge. When they first met they were both just out of college, poor and still living in Ryan's one-bedroom apartment above the cinema down on Carpenter Street, then Max was born and Ryan suddenly found himself doing IT work at the local community college and other things while Vanessa went to Medical School. They'd been too busy to do anything back then but survive. By the time they'd had enough money to pick up sticks to somewhere else, Max had already settled in school and Vanessa had already started her practice.

Just for a moment, little more than a tiny piece of time, Ryan considered knocking on the Price house, just to see how Max was doing and maybe having a sit down with Bill, Chloe's dad. Though they weren't exactly friendly outside their daughter's social lives, William Price seemed like he knew what he was doing. Plus, he seemed like an okay dude.

 _Maybe it would be good to have a chat about this stuff with another guy?_

 _No,_ Ryan thinks. _It's too early. They're still asleep. Plus, this is none of Bill's business. Dudes don't talk about this stuff with other dudes. They used to, though. Back when men went to bars after work and complained to each other._ He dismisses the thought: _No, don't be that asshole… You're starting to sound like Dad. Just try to catch Bill on the way back. Everyone will be awake then. Max might even be happy to see you._

The blue jay flew away too. Ryan sighed.

 _Yeah, right._

* * *

About an hour and a half later Ryan found himself nearing the edge of the cliff, on the trail leading up to the town's ever watchful lighthouse. _By just about now_ , he thought, _Max would be up and having breakfast with the Prices. Good. Joyce makes some bodacious breakfast._

Ryan felt like a sixteen-year-old geek again for thinking the word "bodacious" - having tried to use it after _Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure_ came out - but doesn't settle on it.

 _At least nobody heard me say it out loud._

The end of his run - the lighthouse - was so close now. He was just in sight of the edge of the cliff when he saw a young doe. It wasn't strange to see a baby deer in Arcadia Bay, especially during the winter months when the babies from the year before were just learning to step out on their own, but Ryan hadn't seen one since he was a boy.

 _It must have come up from the forest and got separated from its mother. A real life Bambi._

"Hello there." He leaned down to eye level with the animal. She looked at him for a moment, confused and frightened before slowly taking a few steps forward. Ryan smiled, amazed at her. 'Come on,' Ryan held out his hand. 'I'm not going to hurt y - .'

BANG!

The doe was only a foot from Ryan's hand when someone shot it. He fell backward; his hearing reduced to a loud, high pitched squeal. In that split second that marked the time of silence, when all Ryan could hear was his breaths, the movement of the doe, and the sounds of the wind and the birds and town in the far, far distance, and the sound of gunfire, the life he'd leave behind if he died flashed above his eyes, like a long series of Polaroids taped to a bedroom wall. He saw his funeral, Max crying, Vanessa marrying some asshole with a mustache, Max acting out. Causing chaos. Finally, he saw Max, years from now, her hair long and bright-red, facing a boy in an orange vest, in a bathroom. The boy had something in his hands; something metallic.

The images were suddenly gone and Ryan regained his senses. He looked around at the forest and the blue and cream colored sky. He saw a grinning man in a bright orange hunter's vest standing in the clearing, just in front of the lighthouse, brandishing a smoking shotgun.

'You should be more careful,' the man said as he replaced his shells. 'Look where you're going. I almost shot you.'

In shock and with his ears still ringing, Ryan took a deep breath. He stood up and marched towards the hunter, a blonde man of roughly the same age as himself. 'What the… I was petting that doe! Are you fucking insane? I was petting that doe… And you fucking shot it!'

'You were interfering with the hunt.'

'The hunt? This is public land, you jackass. You can't hunt here.'

The hunter smirked.

'I think you'll find that all this belong to my family.'

Ryan recognized the man as Sean Prescott - a local rich boy who'd moved away to Florida years back but who'd come back to gentrify the area. Real asshole, some people said.

'Your family? The fuck are you? The Corleones?'

'Just turn away, sir, and we'll forget all about this. You don't know who you're messing with.'

Ryan thought about head butting the asshole and then kicking him a few times, but he didn't. He had Max and Vanessa to worry about. He'd never live it down if he got arrested. _No_ , he thought. _Be the bigger man, Ryan_.

'I know exactly what kind of prick I'm walking away from,' Ryan said, still in shock. 'The kind of prick who shoots at baby deers on public property.' He exhaled, turned, and started marching away from Prescott and the lighthouse.

Prescott chuckled. 'Feel free to send me the dry cleaning bill for your clothes. Sean Prescott, remember that name.'

Ryan looked down; he was covered in blood.

* * *

The Caulfield's house was on the other side of town to Cedar Avenue, in a far more affluent area of Arcadia Bay. At least, the residents thought of themselves as more affluent. In truth, the houses weren't much different except there were fewer of them, and the laws separating the houses were much bigger. It was clean. Safe. As Ryan walked down Cave Street, the same street that he'd proposed to Vanessa on thirteen years beforehand, he couldn't help but feel out of place.

It wasn't just the blood on his shirt, either, although that elicited a few awkward glances from his elderly neighbors. As a person, he felt out of place, like he should have left years before and was just staying.

Why? He wondered.

Ryan's dad - who'd owned the house before they had moved in - had moved out to Portland and Vanessa's parents had already gone; neither of them had friends in the area beside the Prices. The economy was dead, and Ryan's freelancing IT gigs only paid so much; he could make five times working for an actual software company in Seattle. Vanessa was always talking about how she'd love to take a position in a hospital or help out on research.

 _Maybe Vanessa was right,_ he thought. _Maybe it's time we just leave._

It was strange for Ryan to say it, even if it was just in his head. In the past, whenever the topic had come up, he'd always argued against the idea automatically.

 _'_ _You're not seeing the big issue,'_ he'd said. ' _We live here!'_

This time, though, Ryan thought it was the right thing to do. Somehow, though, Ryan still didn't like the idea of it. It was tough for Max to make friends - Chloe was pretty much the only one she'd ever had. Even if what Vanessa had said was true, that Max would make friends automatically if thrust into a new environment, he couldn't do that to her.

Drag Max from Chloe? Ryan just couldn't do that to his daughter.

But still, as he took the last few steps towards his front yard, the same front yard that the street tenants association had banned him from turning into a garden, Ryan couldn't shake the idea. Living in Seattle… The big city. Grunge… Hendrix… Microsoft… The fish market… Surely there were ways of making it work so that Max wouldn't be too upset. Chloe could visit, as often as she wanted. She could just hop on the train. Max could come back, too. And it would make Vanessa happy… It was possible, but he didn't like it. Somehow, moving to Seattle just felt like the wrong decision…

But he knew it could also be the only thing that would make Vanessa happy.

It was quiet inside - it always was when Vanessa was mad at him. She went into her office and got started on paperwork, or just browsed the internet and made it look like she was busy. Normally it just meant that she wanted him out of the way while she vented. Ryan supposed that was for the best. Despite everything, despite their frustrations and arguments, and the fact that she wouldn't stop calling Max "Maxine", Ryan still loved his wife. They had their problems - every relationship does - but he wanted to make it work. For Max's sake, if not his own. If that meant moving then he'd do it.

Ryan made his way through the hallway and into the kitchen. On the counter was a stack of mail. Some of them were bills, and there were a couple of pamphlets. Two Whales had a new menu out. The last piece was a letter from Miss Moore: Max's principal.

A letter from the principal was never good, and with the recent issues with Max's grades, it could be something serious. Why Vanessa hadn't opened it yet, Ryan didn't know.

He took a drink from the orange juice in the fridge and then went to the foot of the stairs.

'Nessa, did you see this letter from Max's school?'

She didn't reply.

'Nessa!' he shouted again. 'There's a letter from Max's school. Did you see it?'

'I'm not talking to you,' Vanessa shouted from her office upstairs, her tone somewhat angry, somewhat playful, as though she got a kind of satisfaction from being mad at her husband.

'Dear…'

'Get out, Ryan. I'll text you when I want you back.'

'Dear, I've had something of a traumatic morning, and I'd really like to have a talk.'

'Go away.'

'A man shot at me today.'

'Ryan, stop being childish and leave me alone.'

'Dear, I'm being serious! A man shot at me today!' Ryan shouted, louder than he'd ever shouted in his life. 'With bullets.'

There was activity coming from upstairs, the sound of heavy footsteps quickly making their way across the hardwood floor of Vanessa's office. She thrust the door open and ran to the side of the landing and looked down at her husband, covered in splats of blood and his own sweat.

'What the hell happened?' she shouted and ran down the stairs. 'Are you hurt? Do you want me to call an ambulance? Are you bleeding?'

'No,' Ryan replied. 'I'm fine… I'm fine… I'm fine… Some prick with a hunting rifle… thing… shot a dear that I was trying to pet.'

'Where were you?'

'Road to the lighthouse… Nessa, he shot it… This little doe. It was there and then it wasn't.'

Vanessa checked him over but didn't see any physical injuries. 'What if that had been Max or Chloe?'

'I don't want to think about it.'

'This town is really going to hell.'

'I _said_ I don't want to think about it.'

'You sound like you're in shock.'

'I'm fine.'

'Come sit down.' She led him to the living room. 'Let me take a look at you.' she smiled. 'I am a head doctor. Come on.'

They sat down on the couch and Vanessa got him a blanket and a glass of water to drink. She took his shirt off him. 'Let me know if you feel off at all.'

'Off?'

'Off. Not jiving.'

'Not jiving? Are we in the seventies?'

'Don't start,' she said and sat down next to him.

'Don't start? I'm not the one who brought up moving to Seattle this morning.'

'Ryan,' she said, far more calmly than she'd said anything in a long time. 'I am just so tired of fighting. It seems like it's been every day since God knows that we've fought about something. Neither of us is happy here - you say you are but I know you feel just as trapped in here as I do - and Max is a social outcast.'

'She has Chloe Price.'

'It's not normal.'

'What isn't?'

'She should have more friends. Something. She shouldn't spend all her time over at the Price house, Ryan. She should want to spend some time at home. With us. With friends. Plural. She can't spend all her time with one person.'

'She's a teenager, Nessa. They tend to do what they want.'

'Ryan,' Vanessa said as she sat down on the staircase. 'It's not good for her. It's not. She needs more in her life than her one friend and her camera.'

'We can't cut Chloe out of her life.'

'I'm not saying we do. I'm saying we move. Chloe can still visit on weekends and vacations.'

'Sure… But the distance…'

'It's the best thing for her and for all of us.'

'What about jobs?'

'Carrie said that I can take a position at her practice in Tacoma. Any time. The position is always open.'

'And what about me?'

'You could continue freelancing. The market must be better for an IT guy down there. You could go into proper software development. If not, I'm sure you could find something.'

He thought for a long moment, about the house, about Max and her friend, about the years that he'd thought he'd spend in Arcadia Bay and the years in Seattle. Ryan didn't like the idea of moving, but it was the best thing to do for the family. 'Okay,' he said, 'but Max has to know that Chloe can come visit, and Max can visit here, whenever they want. Even at Christmas.'

Vanessa smiled. She was excited for the first time in a long time. 'Are we really doing this?'

'Yeah,' he said, exhausted.

* * *

For the first time in almost a decade, a kind of blissful peace had settled on the Caulfield household. Not a false one, or a peace made of salt, something that they put up for the good of their daughter, but a quiet contentment. A real contentment.

After Vanessa had called Carrie, Ryan took a long, warm shower. Then, having canceled their appointments for the day, they sat down in the living room to plan out their move. It was only about 11 am but already the house had an early evening feeling about it. Warm. Cosy.

'I think it would be a good idea if we do the move on a weekend,' Vanessa said, her laptop balanced on her knees. 'Try to have as little time off as possible.'

'Yeah,' Ryan replied, exhausted. 'I think that's a good idea. But we still need to find a place, yet.'

'I know.'

'Three bedrooms. We'll need an office room… thing.'

'In Seattle?'

'Or Tacoma. Somewhere close.'

'It's going to be expensive.'

'This place will sell.'

'I also think that we should ask Chloe to stay with us while we move. Help Max to deal with the new surroundings. She seems to be more socially inclined than Max. A little more fond of exploring.'

'Yeah.'

'Are you listening to me?'

Ryan grimaced. 'I'm just thinking about that deer.'

'Did you see who did it?'

'One of the Prescotts. Sean… The one who went to Florida.'

Vanessa put a hand on her husband's knee. 'Do you want to file a police report?'

'No,' he said, his expression blank. 'I never wanted to see that orange-vest-wearing asshole in my life.'

'Okay.'

Another comfortable silence settled in the room as Vanessa looked at houses online.

The house phone rang. It was an obtrusive ring, an unwelcome island in the sea of quiet that was their home. Ryan flinched, his hearing having returned to it usual health.

'I'll get it,' Vanessa squeezed her husband's hand. 'It's probably Carrie.'

'Okay,' Ryan replied and settled himself.

Vanessa stood up and made her way to the kitchen. As she walked towards the phone, she suddenly felt wrong, as if she knew something horrible was coming. It wasn't definite; it wasn't a vision or a voice, it was just a feeling.

 _Mother's intuition_ , she thought.

Vanessa picked up the phone and pressed the receiver to her ear. 'Caulfield residence.'

'M-mom?' The voice was strained, croaky. Vanessa knew that her daughter was trying to hide the fact that she was crying.

'No, no, no!' another voice behind Max's shouted, not to Max or to Vanessa, but to someone else. 'You're wrong. You're wrong. Let me see him.'

'Chloe…' Max said, her voice as far from the carefree thirteen-year-old's that it had been the day before.

'Max!' Vanessa called. 'What is it, love? Tell me what's wrong.

'Mom… You and Dad need to come to the hospital. There's been an accident.'

'Where are you? Are you hurt?'

More crying in the background. 'Arcadia Bay Medical Centre. Mom, come quick.'

'Max, are you hurt?'

'No…' Max said. 'It's William.'

The phone line went dead. Ryan appeared in the hallway, his eyes still a glaze.

'What's up?'

Shaken, Vanessa put the phone down. 'There's been an accident… Something about William Price.'

'What about Max? Is she hurt?'

'She said she's fine, but she wants us to come.'

Ryan nodded and went to put on a pair of jeans and shoes. He returned a moment later, dressed in yesterday's clothes. 'Did she say what had happened?'

'Just that there'd been an accident.'

'Did she… Is Bill…?'

'I don't know,' Vanessa replied, her tone subdued. 'It didn't sound good.'

Ryan stood at the front door, car keys in hand. 'Do you think we should put off the move for a while?'

Vanessa stopped just ahead of her husband and thought for a moment. 'No,' she said. 'No. I mean, let's just… I don't know. Let's just get to the hospital and we'll talk later, okay?'

'Yeah… Okay,' Ryan replied as they left the house.

* * *

Thank you for reading my story. If you enjoyed reading it, I'd appreciate a review. If not, I'd appreciate pointers.


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